


Pushing the Sky

by Larathia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larathia/pseuds/Larathia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Sam Wilson needed to have his wings back or the world wasn't right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing the Sky

Sam Wilson eyed the box dubiously. "I can guess what it is," he said slowly, "But we had to steal back the last one, and there isn't any SHIELD anymore, so before I go putting fingerprints on this, I just want to know: _how_?"

The non-state of SHIELD was a quite valid issue, under the circumstances, so Steve just nodded. "There is no SHIELD," he agreed. "But there are still Avengers." At Sam's dubious look, he added, "We were never an official group to start with. And Tony is, if anything, less official than anyone else. I mentioned you'd lost your wings. He asked me some questions, took some measurements, and there you are." He gestured at the box. "I can't promise it'll be just like the last one. Tony kind of likes to tinker."

"That invitation to dinner," Sam guessed, sitting down in an overstuffed chair as if the only other option might be wobbling. "That's when he took the measurements? Or are we gonna be having polite calls from the Pentagon?"

Steve's expression turned serious. "If you get any calls like that, you forward them to Tony. He didn't steal the original blueprints or anything like that. He worked from scratch, using my description and your measurements. The internals are all his work." He paused, then added, "He said to say you might find some new features. But it's all his own work and he _also_ said to say anyone that wants to argue the point can take it up with his patent lawyers, so."

Sam looked relieved. He'd missed his wings, definitely, and had been glad to get them back - but it _had_ also been a national emergency. You couldn't go stealing classified military tech just because you happened to miss it. Issues resolved, he opened the case.

The ladybug-like silvery back-shell gleamed in the light. Smiling unconsciously - he had _really_ missed his wings - he lifted it out of the case and got his first surprise; it was about a third the weight of his original rig. He hefted it, looked toward Rogers, got a small, reassuring nod in return. _It's okay._

Arm straps, leg straps - you had to use rigging similar to parachutes or it was much too easy to slide out of it, which was a fatally bad idea. Buckled in place one by one, he found the rig rested _very_ comfortably against his spine. "Laser measurements?" he asked. 

"I try not to ask Stark technical questions," Rogers replied with quiet humor. "Could end up waiting all day for the end of the answer. And if you interrupt, you get a short form along the lines of 'press the button and watch the blinking lights'."

"I believe you," Sam replied with a grin. Light, perfectly fitted, he felt almost _whole_ with the weight strapped to his back like this. It just needed -

"Here, let me," said Steve, getting up to show the way to a double-door window, that once open revealed a broad balcony. Under other circumstances he would have appreciated the view of the city. Now, he was focused on the fact of _runway_. 

Sam Wilson walked out onto that balcony and spread out his arms. And silver wings unfolded from the carapace, with discreet little handgrips at the right joints for him to direct the movement of the wings.

One more step...

"One last thing," Steve said, momentarily derailing him. "Stark said this is a fully functioning _prototype_. You find any problems, you tell him. And also, because it's a prototype, it's recording data about how you fly with it - how you tell it what to do. He'll use that to refine the work."

"Great," was all Sam had to say to that, because half his mind was already on the test flight. Hands in the wing grips, he launched himself off the balcony and the thrusters - _aha, repulsors_ \- fired of their own accord.

Flight! He didn't even need to think about the grips. _Now_ he was whole. 

Fall turned to dive turned to swooping, corkscrew ascent. _Rock the cradle - barrel roll!_ and level out for a vertical loop, descending swiftly with just time for a _deeply_ satisfying "On your left!" at Rogers as he buzzed the balcony, then a horizontal portside loop around the tower.

By the time he brought himself back down to the balcony to land, letting go of the grips so that the wings folded back into the carapace, Steve Rogers was grinning proudly. "Think they'll do?"

"Oh hell yes," Sam agreed. "But - along with my thank you - totally tell Stark he's going to need a few bottles of water to drink while he explains the internals to me. I want to know my wings. Take care of them myself."

That surprised Steve, to judge by the briefly raised eyebrows, but he nodded in understanding. "I'll bring it up. Better set a few weeks aside for that instruction though."

"Will do," Sam agreed. Then paused; the question was important, but awkward. "Um. Does this mean I'm..." he gestured at the tower around them.

"Depends on if you want to be," Steve replied. "Personally I think you should meet everyone else on that team if you're thinking about signing on. But we've all got our own separate projects going, too. You're as welcome to do that as anyone else. And the wings are still yours if you decide against joining. Far as anyone here's concerned, you've earned that."

Sam nodded, relieved. Glad as he was to have functioning wings again, some things you just didn't leap into blind. Not if you were smart. "Thanks," he said. "I'll think about it."

Steve smiled. "You do that." He gestured to the balcony. "Take some time to get to know your new wings. If you have any questions, ask them out loud and Jarvis will answer them for you."

Sam nodded again, more slowly. "So...is Tony around, then?"

"Oh, yes," Steve agreed. "Few floors down. Might be poking Bruce with a mini-tazer. I told him to give you a few hours alone with the wings before he started trying to fine tune everything."

"Thanks," Sam said again, meaning it. He turned back toward the balcony. He'd _really, really_ missed his wings. "Appreciate it."

Steve gave him a salute, and headed for the elevator, leaving Sam Wilson alone with the whole New York skyline.


End file.
